So Hale led his horse up into the bushes and came back to a covert by the roadside to watch and wait. As he sat there, a merry whistle sounded down the road, and Hale smiled. Soon the Infant of the Guard came along, his hands in his pockets, his cap on the back of his head, his pistol bumping his hip in manly fashion and making the ravines echo with his pursed lips. He stopped in front of Hale, looked toward the river, drew his revolver and aimed it at a floating piece of wood. The revolver cracked, the piece of wood skidded on the surface of the water and there was no splash. “That was a pretty good shot,” said Hale in a low voice. The boy whirled and saw him. “Well-what are you--?” “Easy--easy!” cautioned Hale. “Listen! I've just seen a moonshiner go into Caliban's cabin.” The boy's eager eyes sparkled. “Let's go after him.” “No, you go on back. If you don't, they'll be suspicious. Get another man”--Hale almost laughed at the disappointment in the lad's face at his first words, and the joy that came after it--“and climb high above the shanty and come back here to me. Then after dark we'll dash in and cinch Caliban and his customers.” “Yes, sir,” said the lad. “Shall I whistle going back?” Hale nodded approval. “Just the same.” And off Bob went, whistling like a calliope and not even turning his head to look at the cabin. In half an hour Hale thought he heard something crashing through the bushes high on the mountain side, and, a little while afterward, the boy crawled through the bushes to him alone. His cap was gone, there was a bloody scratch across his face and he was streaming with perspiration. “You'll have to excuse me, sir,” he panted, “I didn't see anybody but one of my brothers, and if I had told him, he wouldn't have let ME come. And I hurried back for fear--for fear something would happen.” “Well, suppose I don't let you go.” “Excuse me, sir, but I don't see how you can very well help. You aren't my brother and you can't go alone.” “I was,” said Hale. “Yes, sir, but not now.” Hale was worried, but there was nothing else to be done. “All right. I'll let you go if you stop saying 'sir' to me. It makes me feel so old.” “Certainly, sir,” said the lad quite unconsciously, and when Hale smothered a laugh, he looked around to see what had amused him. Darkness fell quickly, and in the gathering gloom they saw two more figures skulk into the cabin. “We'll go now--for we want the fellow who's selling the moonshine.” Again Hale was beset with doubts about the boy and his own responsibility to the boy's brothers. The lad's eyes were shining, but his face was more eager than excited and his hand was as steady as Hale's own. “You slip around and station yourself behind that pine-tree just behind the cabin”--the boy looked crestfallen--“and if anybody tries to get out of the back door--you halt him.” “Is there a back door?”